Part of my "Pop! Goes the Radio" metamorphosis involved the liberating power of the chorus. It's the most important part of any song, as this semi-hilarious video will tell you ... it's the part that you hum when the song is over, the part that elevates all that comes before. A good chorus is essential, but not necessary, to a good pop song.
So here are some of my favorite choruses from R.E.M. I could write a thousand words on each song; these are just my stream-of-consciousness thoughts. Maybe someday I'll elaborate on them, but for now, here they are ... and here's a handy pop-up window with all the songs. Or click on the links below.
This one bowled me over when I first heard it, and I spent way too much time trying to figure it out on my acoustic guitar – mainly because you can't get good feedback on an acoustic guitar, especially when you're living with another person in a studio apartment. My first thought was "This is going to be a smash hit," but they didn't release it as a single. It's as dark and brooding a love song as they've ever written.
One of the great wordless choruses. I don't know if that disqualifies it from true "great chorus" consideration, but since this is the only thing Google knows about when it comes to "great choruses of the rock era," I'm going to issue a ruling: Words aren't necessary. Certainly they weren't for this gem, which I used to learn fingerpicking during my senior year at Denison.
I'll find myself humming this when I'm on a photo shoot. Not the thing most parents want to hear from their photographer, mainly because I can't always get the lyrics right. Who will be your face, indeed? And why are you locking your car doors like that?
Oh man, this is killer. It's in 3/4 time, which always helps ... I was working as a temp at TargetCom in Chicago, doing tech support, and the phone system was set to play XRT when people were on hold – and we could pipe it through our speakerphones too. I remember walking down the hall of the Navy Pier offices when I first heard this song. It was late in the afternoon on a cool fall day ... I didn't know it was R.E.M. but I had a good hunch. It sounded amazing even in speakerphone. I'd actually got a sneak preview of the album, thanks to the Oxford American's Southern Sampler 1998, which had the better version of "Why Not Cry" as well as the great Hackberry Ramblers' "I'll Be There."
I've interpreted this song as an anti-environmentalist song, which would be odd coming from Michael Stipe, but you tell me – "Buy the sky and sell the sky and tell the sky, and tell the sky 'Don't Fall On Me'" ... I think it's a reaction to the anthropomorphism of the environment that was all the rage in the late 1980s. Don't anthropomorphize the environment, dude – it hates it when you do that!
Another one for the vasty underrated "Up," which was the first album after Bill Berry left the group. R.E.M. has a good knack for ending its albums powerfully. It's a martyr song, which makes it all the better for a melodramatic chorus.
A weird album – I'd broken my ankle two days before it came out; on that Tuesday, Amina watched me hobble down the street on crutches in Evanston to buy the disc before we ate lunch. It was a pretty weak effort (the disc, not the crutch work) but you can't deny the goosebumps when Buck's Rickenbacker kicks in toward the end. And the lyrics are among my favorite from the group ... I have no idea what they mean, but I understand every word. No one can see me cry ...
This was a song I first heard as a bootleg when Adam Garratt and I shared the "Buena Vista" apartment in northern Chicago. It's a really bad bunch of lyrics, but that chorus! Oh man. "He hit his head!!!!" That's gold, I'm telling you ... I came across a bootleg of the song on T.U.B.E. and that inspired this post. I had no idea you could, you know, pay money for the finished version of the song. It was my white whale for years: "You know, back in they day, I heard the best R.E.M. chorus that's never been released ..." Oh, okay there grandpa. Tell me about how you had to rewind cassette tapes during the Clinton administration.
Obligatory. You gotta put this on your list. And I had to include "Leonard Bernstein!" in the clip.
In concert, this song just rocks. They played it during the "Monster" tour in '95 and it was a great singalong. I saw them in Pittsburgh, and I had a press pass. I took three rolls of b/w film and can't find the negatives. I kick myself every so often about that. I got a great shot of Mike Mills in his Elvis jumpsuit, pointing the headstock of his bass at me. I must find those negatives. I had an insanely attractive 17 year old girl from eastern Pennsylvania promise me that I'd send her copies of the photos; I did them up at the News-Register and printed out a huge newspaper-sized poster for her. She wrote back and wanted to be a "pen pal." I never replied because I was 23 and she was 17. What a fool I was.
The. best. live. recording. ever. Did you never call? I waited for your call; these rivers of suggestion are driving me away. The oceans sang; the conversations dimmed ... Go buy yourself another dream, this choice wasn't mine. In my Denison years, when I would fantasize about playing a guitar in front of people, I did this song, and Tom Petty's live version of "The Waiting." I kicked ass.
I can't agree with the political bent of the lyrics – hell, with most everything Michael Stipe stands for politically – but this chorus not only is eminently sing-along-to-able™ but it's also hauntingly beautiful. Very well produced by Jacknife Lee. If someone who voted the way I voted put this song on repeat on his iPod ... you know it's good.
Named after the proprietor of Wendell Gee's Used Cars in Prendergast, Ga. (I love Wikipedia.) Peter Buck didn't like this song when it first was recorded, but he's come around to it. "Whistle while the wind blows," I'd say to Peter, were I ever to meet him. Given that I live in Nashville, who knows? It could happen.
During my two years at the Wheeling News-Register, I was let out of work early for two record releases: The Beatles' "Anthology: Vol I," and "Monster." I had just gotten my first new car, a 1995 Chevrolet S-10 pickup with an after-market stereo system (later stolen while the truck was parked on Montrose Avenue in Chicago) and the first song I really cranked was "What's the Frequency, Kenneth?" and I was worried that I'd blow out the speakers before I'd made the first payment.
In the immortal words of Tony Kornheiser: "That's it ... that's the list."
1 comment:
I share a love-hate relationship with digital memory because of how prices are always falling. I absolutely hate buying Micro SD Cards for my R4 / R4i at (what seems to be) a cheap price only to see it become a whole lot more cheaper a couple of weeks later.
(Submitted by SurfV3 for R4i Nintendo DS.)
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